


Afterglow

by SparklingPopsicles



Series: MakoHaru at it again! [9]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:25:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4438907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingPopsicles/pseuds/SparklingPopsicles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto takes care of Haru after wrecking him just a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> I was talking with my good friends Aleisha @ActualAleisha and Adri @sugaaanova about MH sex on twitter one night, and they went on about the amazing "after-sex" Makoto and Haru must have. Like what happens when the lewd ends, and we talked about how Makoto would of course take care of Haru afterwards. They had some great ideas and I just fell in love with the concept. So, this fic that was born from that exchange. Adri and Aleisha, thank you both for the inspiration and ideas! ^_^
> 
> And thank you ANNE for being the most incredible and hilarious beta on Earth!!!

“Haru… _Haru_ – I’m cumming!” Makoto cries out, thrusting roughly into Haru’s ass one last time before Makoto bursts open, cumming hard with a deep, guttural moan. Makoto loses all strength and hunches over, toppling onto Haru’s back. Haru’s knees and elbows soon give out, and they crash to the floor.

They pant heavily, and Makoto buries his face in Haru’s sweaty neck as his orgasm rocks him to impairment. Makoto is beyond exhausted, his knees so raw from constantly shifting them on the floor, and Haru’s steamy body only makes Makoto hotter – boiling to the point where it feels uncomfortable.

“M-Makoto?” Haru pants, turning his head to the side so he can speak clearly.

“Y-yeah?” Makoto wheezes, kissing Haru’s neck.

Haru wiggles underneath Makoto. “You’re really heavy. Can’t breathe.”

“Oh – sorry,” Makoto says. He gradually pulls out of Haru’s impossible tightness, causing Haru to arch his back and whimper. Makoto shifts off Haru and lies on his back next to him.

Makoto tugs off the condom he’d been wearing and tries to tie it off before throwing it away, but it’s far too slippery now, and Makoto has never really liked touching condoms, so it only makes working with it more difficult.

“I can help,” Haru says, watching Makoto struggle while still lying on his back – still tied to the bed frame.

“I know what I’m doing,” Makoto mumbles – somehow still unable to pull the stupid piece of rubber through the even more stupid little rubber loop that he created.

Haru sighs. “Just untie _me_ first, Makoto, then I’ll take care of it. Come on, my arms are tired.”

“Fine!” Makoto groans in defeat, fidgeting in frustration.

Makoto doesn’t know what to do with the soiled condom, so he carefully just lays it on the floor. Makoto then unties the red cotton rope from the bed frame, loosening the binds around Haru’s wrists and setting him free. Haru immediately flips over on his back, exhaling in what looks like relief, and stretches out his arms.

Makoto frowns as Haru rotates his wrists, and he takes one of Haru’s hands, skipping his fingers over Haru’s irritated skin.

“Does this hurt?” Makoto asks.

Haru pulls his arm away and sits up, reaching over Makoto and taking the condom. “No,” Haru says, “but you clearly have problems tying things."

Haru easily makes a knot with the rubber and carelessly tosses it at the trash bin next to Haru’s side of the bed, where it miraculously falls in. He then casually lies back on the floor, spreading out his flushed, gorgeous body, and looks at his wrists.

“You didn’t tie the rope tight enough,” Haru says. “It must’ve chaffed my skin.”

Makoto frowns even more, lying next to Haru. “I’m sorry,” Makoto says. “I didn’t want to hurt you by making it too tight.”

Haru rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he looks at Makoto. Haru’s face is a pretty pink; his big blue eyes are drowsy, and his sweaty body is still radiating so much heat. Makoto’s stomach growls, and he isn’t sure if it’s after-sex hunger, or simply Haru’s perfection making him feel so starved.

“That’s the whole point, Makoto,” Haru says. “People use ropes with the sole purpose of making the binds too tight.”

“I don’t need a lesson,” Makoto says, taking one of Haru’s hands again. He kisses Haru’s wrist. “I need to get some cream and take care of you,” Makoto adds, softly.

Haru faintly grins. “I’m okay.”

“You promise?” Makoto asks.

Haru’s eyes soften, and his little smile grows. “Yes, I promise.” Haru stretches out his whole body, wincing. “It’s my ass you should worry about, if anything. You really fucked me, Makoto.”

Makoto blushes – a weak pulse shooting to his spent cock. “I-”

“- don’t even think about apologizing for that,” Haru quickly adds. “You’ll sleep on the floor if you do.”

Makoto laughs, looking away coyly for a moment. “I wasn’t going to apologize. I was going to say that you kind of left me no choice. You feel way too good for me sometimes, Haru.”

“Better than Dream Haru?” Haru asks.

Makoto smiles widely, giggling. “Definitely.”

Makoto lays a kiss on Haru’s palm, feeling sly as he remembers his dream – the one that woke him up and started all of this.

Makoto had opened his eyes in the middle of the night after a dream of fishing for Haru in a human-sized fish bowl with a human-sized net. He eventually caught Haru, of course. Eventually fucked Haru, _of_ _course_. So, it was really Makoto’s subconscious that made him wake up Haru also with a blowjob, then fuck him just as Makoto had in his dream– using the rope purely so Haru couldn’t slip out of Makoto’s hands, like Dream Haru almost had.

“Still thinking about me with a tail?” Haru asks, smirking.

Makoto hurriedly looks away, giving his attention instead to the ripped condom box on the floor. “I think we should try a different brand,” he says, looking over the box.

“Why? Because you can’t tie one off?” Haru asks. “Those were expensive.”

“That’s not the reason,” Makoto says, lying just a little. “I think it’s important to have variety. That’s all.”

Haru releases a small huff of air through his nose, and Makoto is all too familiar with the sound – it’s Haru’s way of calling bullshit.

“Well, I appreciate you putting one on for me anyway,” Haru says. “I just knew I wouldn’t feel like showering at…” Haru trails off to look up at the alarm clock on their side table. “At 2:15 AM.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” Makoto says, roaming his eyes over Haru’s body. “You’re so tight, Haru. All I could feel was you.”

Haru moans, facing the ceiling and fluttering his eyelashes. Makoto trails his fingers down Haru’s firm chest and stomach, stopping at the base of Haru’s equally spent cock that had its moment of release not too long ago in Makoto’s mouth. Haru shudders and lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes.

Makoto bites his lip, wanting to get closer, but they're far too hot and sticky for much more contact than the level they are at now, and Haru isn't the biggest cuddler right after sex, anyway.

“I guess even condoms can’t stop you from making my legs go numb,” Haru says, as Makoto traces Haru’s navel with a finger.

“Why would they stop me?” Makoto asks. He drags his hand lower, briefly cupping Haru’s balls.

Haru makes a slight noise and twitches, opening his eyes again. “You hate condoms, Makoto.”

“I don’t hate them,” Makoto says, lying a little again. “I just don’t like the way they feel – in my hands. It’s such a nasty, weird texture. They kind of scare me.”

Haru laughs, gently. “You’re so strange sometimes, Makoto. You are the strangest boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had,” Makoto corrects, leaning over to kiss Haru.

Haru holds up a finger. “No tongue until you brush your teeth.”

Makoto rolls his eyes, deciding to forgo the kiss altogether. “You act like you’ve never tasted cum before – let’s not forget who sucked who off first back at uni.”

Haru sits up again, pushing Makoto’s arm. “Shut up, Makoto. You can’t keep using that to win arguments. Tasting you is fine, but not my own stuff, obviously. Besides, no one wants that in their mouths while they’re kissing anyway – period.”

“ _Fine_!” Makoto whines. “I’ll go brush my teeth, but only because I do plan on kissing you with my tongue.”

Makoto gets on his knees, stifling a grimace at how burned they feel, and secures his arms underneath Haru’s legs and around his back. Makoto then uses the little power he has left in his thighs to heave himself and Haru off the floor.

“You don’t have to carry me,” Haru says, locking his arms around Makoto’s neck regardless.

“Yes I do,” Makoto says, laying Haru on the bed. “I’ll be back with a clean mouth – unless I need to wash another dirty part of me?”

“Go away,” Haru mutters, making himself comfortable on the bed and nuzzling his face into a pillow.

Makoto pecks Haru’s forehead, putting away the lube, condoms, and rope before heading to the bathroom.

Makoto brushes his teeth then looks through their medical supplies, grabbing ointment for Haru’s wrists and pain reliever for his ass. While Makoto is alone, he allows himself to feel momentarily guilty for fucking Haru so hard. Nothing is more amazing than digging into Haru roughly enough that the stoic, quiet blue-eyed boy has no choice but to squeal in pleasure, but seeing Haru slow and wincing for a day won’t be nearly as enjoyable.

After Makoto recovers all the supplies he needs, he goes into the kitchen, figuring water and something cold to munch on might also help. As soon as Makoto opens the refrigerator, there is a knock on the front door.

Makoto nearly jumps out of his skin, and he remembers what time Haru told him it was. Makoto’s first instinct is to ignore the presence, but if someone is knocking at such a time in the night, then it must be important.

“Makoto?” Haru calls from the bedroom.

“I’ll get it!” Makoto says. He runs back into the bedroom, grabbing the first pair of pajamas he can find and the nearest shirt in sight.

“Who’s knocking this late?” Haru murmurs, sounding half asleep.

“I don’t know,” Makoto says. “Maybe someone needs help?” He hastily tugs on his clothes, wondering who could be in trouble and how he will be able to help them.

The knocking continues as Makoto makes his way to the door, quickly unlocking and opening it. Their neighbor who lives in the next apartment over – an old man with thick glasses and a thin sense of humor – greets Makoto in striped pajamas.

“Mr. Yama,” Makoto says. He peaks outside, not smelling smoke or seeing any immediate danger.

“Makoto,” Mr. Yama says, giving Makoto a slow once-over.

“Is there a problem?” Makoto asks. “Do you need something?”

Mr. Yama folds his arms over his chest, standing as tall as he can while still being far shorter than Makoto.

“Yes, there is a problem. Yes, I do need something from you,” Mr. Yama says.

Makoto scratches his head, not really knowing what to say. His muscles are tired, and his knees ache. All Makoto really wants to do is tend to Haru so they can both go back to sleep.

Makoto, however, remembers his manners and smiles. “Would you like to come in?” he asks, regretting the question instantly since Haru is still naked and fucked-out in bed.

“No, thank you,” Mr. Yama says, holding up a hand. “I merely stopped by to ask something of you.”

“Of course,” Makoto says.

Mr. Yama exhales heavily, briefly touching the frames of his glasses. “When you and your…boyfriend moved in, I told you both that I didn’t have a problem with your choice of lifestyle.”

Makoto flushes with embarrassment – it’s crippling enough to make his head hurt.

“O-oh, um, y-yes,” Makoto stumbles in saying. “My boyfriend – Haru and I – very much appreciate it. We-”

“- _however_ ,” Mr. Yama soon adds. “What I cannot condone is the noise.”

“The…the noise, Mr. Yama?” Makoto asks, already cringing.

Mr. Yama stares at Makoto, seeming just as uncomfortable.

“Yes – the noise,” Mr. Yama says. “These walls are very thin, and I have to get up in three hours. I would very much appreciate it if you two could keep your…activities at a lower volume.”

Makoto has to lean against the doorframe to keep from crumbling, melting into a puddle of humiliated goo. A ghost, a demon – even the scariest movie ever created – Makoto will gladly take experiencing one of those over this moment.

“I-I I’m so, _so_ sorry, Mr. Yama,” Makoto stutters, feeling so mortified that he can hardly breathe. “W-we…we didn’t…”

“I don’t need to know what you did,” Mr. Yama says. “I simply need it to end – now. That’s why I waited before stopping by. In the hopes that-”

“ - yes, thank you,” Makoto says, nodding hysterically. “It’s, um. It’s _over_ now. So, uh, no more noise.”

“Good,” Mr. Yama says with a small bow, not meeting Makoto’s eyes. “Well, I will return to my apartment now where I will hopefully find peace.”

“Yes. Yes – _of course_ ,” Makoto says – still nodding. Still wanting to die. “We’re going to sleep, too. We, um, we will _all_ be sleeping…”

Makoto trails off, wishing there were a fire to get him out of what can easily be proclaimed as the _very_ worst moment of his life. Mr. Yama says nothing as he nods to Makoto and walks back to his apartment.

Makoto pokes his head out the door. “We’re sorry!” Makoto calls out in a hushed voice.

Makoto shuts the door and falls against it, burying his face in his hands and groaning in pain. He can’t believe what just happened, and Makoto decides that he will spend the rest of his life forcing himself to believe that the entire interaction was merely a hallucination – brought on by fatigue or something.

When Makoto feels well enough to walk again, he pushes himself off the door and opens the refrigerator, finishing what he started before the embarrassing three-minute conversation took three years off his lifespan.

~~~

Makoto returns to the bedroom and dumps all the supplies on the mattress, sitting on the edge and shaking Haru who is definitely asleep.

Haru grumbles, shuffling away. “What?”

“The worst thing that could ever possibly happen just did – at the door,” Makoto says in a panic.

Haru instantly opens his eyes and turns his head, sitting up the moment his eyes connect with Makoto’s. Haru takes Makoto’s hand and grips it hard, his eyes searching Makoto’s body.

“What happened?” Haru asks at once. “Are you okay?”

Makoto shakes his head, clutching Haru’s hand just as hard. “That was Mr. Yama. He. He heard us…having sex. He asked me if we could keep it down.”

Haru merely blinks, his hand still on Makoto’s. “But, you’re all right? That’s all that happened?”

“Well – yes,” Makoto says, shrugging. “That’s technically all that happened, and _physically_ I guess I’m all right.”

Haru relaxes, exhaling deeply as he finally lets go of Makoto’s hand. “Don’t say things like that unless it’s serious, Makoto.” Haru flops back on the bed.

Makoto gapes at Haru. “What? Wait – this is serious. Weren’t you listening?”

“Mr. Yama heard us,” Haru says, indifferently. “I’m sure a lot of people did. So what?”

“So what?” Makoto asks, standing up from the bed. “Haru, he seemed really angry, and-and, well, he _heard_ us!”

“Well of course he heard us, Makoto!” Haru says, throwing up his hands. “You practically made me scream, and anytime we do _anything_ more than kiss you wail like a dolphin.”

Makoto stomps his feet, fidgeting in frustration. “This isn’t funny, Haru! What if he complains? What if we get evicted?”

Haru simply laughs, as if none of what Makoto is saying matters, and Makoto begins to wonder if Haru hit his head against the bed while they were on the floor – being loud enough to wake the neighbors.

“Neither of those things will happen,” Haru says. “Don’t worry.”

“How can you be so sure?” Makoto asks, his jaw dropping in awe.

Haru sighs, sitting up. “Because Mr. Conservative Yama would be far too embarrassed to tell the superintendent that his young _gay_ neighbors were having their young _gay_ sex too loudly.”

Haru smirks, narrowing his eyes. “Also, I think Mr. Yama is attracted to you, so if anything he’s just jealous that you were moaning my name and not his.”

Makoto groans, shaking his head. “I had no idea that late-night bondage turns you into such a great comedian, Haru. This is unbelievable.”

“I’m only telling you the truth so you’ll calm down,” Haru says, resting his arms behind his head. “You’re driving yourself – and me – insane over nothing.”

“I’m not,” Makoto says, pacing. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see the way he… _looked_ at me.”

“I can imagine,” Haru says, giving Makoto a deliberate, gluttonous once-over.

Makoto raises an eyebrow, noticing for the first time how Haru’s eyes are glued to his body, moving as Makoto moves like a hunter.

“Haru?” Makoto asks, slowly. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”

Haru says nothing, just continues staring, wetting his lips.

Makoto peaks down at himself, realizing that not only is he wearing one of Haru’s shirts, but also that the blue material is stretched extremely tight around his torso – exposing a little of his lower stomach. Makoto’s pajamas, however, are far too loose and untied, barely hanging on his bare hips.

Makoto slaps his hands over his face, howling in disbelief as another heap of mortification buries him.

“ _Oh no_ ,” Makoto whines. “No wonder Mr. Yama was horrified. I look like someone you rent by the hour.”

Haru laughs again. “Yeah, you do.”

Makoto releases a long, defeated sigh. He sits back on the bed. “You’re not going to panic with me, are you?”

Haru shakes his head, yawning. “Even if I wanted to, I’m too tired. Everything will be fine, Makoto.”

“I guess you’re right.” Makoto runs his fingers through his hair. “Ugh. The whole point of doing it on the floor was to eliminate the noise the bed would make. I was trying to be considerate, in spite of everything.”

“Everyone in this building knows how considerate you are,” Haru says. “And I’m sure anyone we woke up will have better dreams now. You know all about good dreams.”

Haru takes Makoto’s hand, kissing his knuckles. Makoto calms down a little and smiles at his boyfriend.

Makoto lies beside Haru, moving sleek black locks out of his face for him. “We have nothing to worry about?” Makoto asks.

“Nothing at all,” Haru says. He briefly narrows his eyes again. “Except now I have to find a way to get this image of you out of Mr. Yama’s head. No one gets to see you look slutty but me.”

Makoto tilts his head, wondering if he should feel offended. “How romantic,” he says.

Makoto sits up, remembering why he originally left the room in the first place. He reaches for the supplies he brought, handing Haru a water bottle and the pain reliever. Haru pops two pills in his mouth and downs the water in nearly one gulp. He sighs loudly after he swallows, seeming a bit more alive.

Haru’s change in demeanor also breathes more life back into Makoto. “I brought grapes,” Makoto says, gleefully giving Haru the container.

Haru places one grape on Makoto’s tongue before devouring a few off the vine, his little pink mouth munching in bliss. Makoto feels even better the more Haru responds to his treatment, and Makoto tells himself that maybe it’s too soon for him to die from total embarrassment.

Haru takes a break from eating, deciding instead to merely lick the grape. “What’s the triage kit for?” Haru asks, sitting up a bit more.

Makoto has the words he wants to say in his head, but it takes longer than usual for them to reach his lips. Haru’s got his tongue out – and Makoto always loses some basic function when that happens.

“It’s not triage,” Makoto finally manages to say. “It’s stuff for your wrists.”

Makoto runs his fingers down Haru’s slender, firm legs. “And also your knees, apparently. Oh, Haru!” Makoto holds up Haru’s forearm with a heavy heart. “I guess your elbows as well?”

“Makoto, I’m-”

“- don’t talk,” Makoto says, pouting. “Just let me work – please?”

As expected, Haru doesn’t argue. He rests back against the headboard, quietly eating his grapes while Makoto takes the damp towel that he brought and gently dabs Haru’s red, blotchy knees.

Haru hisses, recoiling. Makoto looks up at him briefly to gauge Haru’s level of discomfort, then continues cleaning the burned skin, delicately applying a bit of ointment with a cotton stick.

“How does that feel?” Makoto asks. “Too much?”

“No. It’s better,” Haru says.

“Good,” Makoto says, grinning. “Let me see your elbows.”

Haru obeys the instruction, bending his arms for Makoto. Makoto cleans the skin with the towel, repeating the process. All the while, Haru’s massive blue eyes stay focused on Makoto – his perfect face calm and expressionless.

Makoto gets a wobbling feeling in his head; a jittery sensation in his stomach that makes his whole body tingle. Haru is so unbelievably beautiful, and the effect he has on Makoto will never fade. Not in ten years or a hundred years.

Makoto lets out a shaky breath. The air around them always seems to thin out when they’re quiet and close like this. It makes Makoto feel lightheaded and so good. Makes him feel like he’s looking at Haru for the very first time _every_ time.

Once Makoto finishes tending to Haru’s elbows, he moves down to Haru’s wrists, caring for each one better than he would his own.

“These aren’t so bad,” Makoto says in relief, deciding the ointment won’t be necessary.

“I told you,” Haru says. His voice is delicate, telling Makoto that Haru is feeling what he’s feeling.

“It makes sense,” Makoto says just as gently, looking up at Haru. “Your wrists were just bound. Not really affected by, um…”

“You telling me to get on my hands and knees?” Haru asks, finishing Makoto’s sentence for him.

Makoto chuckles, licking his lips. “Well, um, yeah.” He sighs. “I won’t lie, it felt so good that I completely let myself go, but I really do hate hurting you, Haru. I never want that.”

Haru nods, placing a hand over Makoto’s. “I know,” he says. “But I’m honestly okay.” Haru looks away for a moment, and when he returns his gaze to Makoto, he seems smaller somehow. “You never hurt me, Makoto. Everything you do is what I want.”

Makoto vaguely wheezes and drops the towel, placing his forehead to Haru’s. Makoto can’t believe how incredible Haru is – how perfect he is in every way.

“You know what I want?” Makoto asks, rubbing Haru’s cheek with his thumb. “I want you to know, again, that I am completely in love with you, Haruka.”

Haru smiles big, his face blooming like a rose, and Makoto just has to kiss him. Makoto gives Haru’s lips an increase of pressure, telling him yet again that he’s sorry and that he loves him more than anything. Haru hums and lets himself be kissed, giving Makoto all the control. Makoto slides his tongue along Haru’s bottom lip, tugging on the supple, little piece of pink flesh as he breaks away, opening his eyes.

Haru’s lips are slightly parted, and his eyes are still closed – Haru’s long, pretty eyelashes gating the ocean irises. It’s exactly what Makoto wanted. Seeing Haru’s expression mid-kiss is a rare event, and Makoto treats every viewing of such a gorgeous, wonderful thing as a precious gift.

“How do I taste now?” Makoto whispers.

Haru’s breathing hitches, and he keeps his eyes closed as he clutches Makoto’s leg. Makoto knows that it’s still too much for Haru to see and feel everything in a moment like this – overwhelms him because it makes Haru completely aware of his deepest feelings, but it doesn’t bother Makoto at all.

Haru will look when he’s ready, and even if he never does, Makoto knows that it’s only because Haru loves him so much.

“Good – tastes good,” Haru breathes. “You can use your tongue now.”

Makoto doesn’t waste another second before kissing Haru again, slipping his tongue inside Haru’s warm, inviting mouth. They moan together, and Haru’s hand slides up Makoto’s body and to his chest, where Haru grips his shirt.

Makoto pushes his tongue deeper into Haru’s mouth, causing Haru to squeak, and Makoto’s heart jumps so hard that Haru must feel it under his hand.

Haru pulls away from the kiss with a moan, leaning back. “We can’t have sex again.”

“I know,” Makoto says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand – trying to regain his senses. “I need to, uh, focus on something else. Lie back.”

“You sure it’s safe?” Haru asks, smirking but still complying.

Makoto bites his lip, looking over Haru’s body. As breathtaking as it is, sometimes Makoto forgets that Haru is naked after a while. His boyfriend has absolutely no shame in his body, and Haru never changes his attitude even when he is balls-naked.

“I’ll be fine,” Makoto assures. “I need to finish taking care of you, and I think you may really need it now.”

Makoto takes the mostly empty water bottle and holds it over the bed, wetting the towel with the remaining cold liquid. Makoto then sits between Haru’s legs and glides the towel over Haru’s stomach, the water nearly sparkling as it drips over his sides. Haru gasps and shudders, closing his eyes and bowing his back.

Makoto runs the towel up and over Haru’s chest, neck, and then back down his arms. Haru doesn’t speak while Makoto bathes him, only keeps his lips parted so he can occasionally sigh and huff. Haru’s fingers twitch as the cold towel brushes his palms, and he gasps again as Makoto transitions to Haru’s lower half.

“You’re so beautiful,” Makoto whispers.

Makoto picks up Haru’s legs one at a time, spreading the wet, cold feeling around Haru’s thighs and making sure to avoid his knees.

Makoto rubs the towel down Haru’s calves and feet, pressing it against his heels. Haru sighs, longingly, letting his head fall to one side. A tiny, lazy smile forms at Haru’s mouth, and Makoto feels a tidal wave of devotion carry him off to sea. Makoto worships Haru, and his body is a temple that Makoto will faithfully preserve forever.

No one else has or ever will get to see Haru like this – touch him and care for him and make him feel so good. Haru only gets naked for Makoto, only screams for him, and only feels comfortable enough with Makoto to let himself give in and smile.

Makoto brings the towel back up Haru’s leg, trailing his inner thigh, and Makoto doesn’t stop until he reaches Haru’s groin. Makoto runs the towel over and down Haru’s cock, lightly squeezing the muscle as he bathes it.

Haru makes a faint noise, opening his legs wider, and Makoto moves the towel over Haru’s sac, letting the now mild coldness pleasantly shock the tender flesh. Haru moans, his hands getting active now as he grips the sheets. Makoto takes his time, going from Haru’s cock to his balls, using the towel as an extension of his worship.

As Haru reacts more and more, Makoto actually relaxes, feeling completely calm for the first time since he woke up from his dream. Makoto moans too, gliding the towel down past Haru’s balls and to the plush of his ass cheeks.

Haru automatically bends his knees to give Makoto more access, and Makoto presses the towel to Haru’s rim, using his finger to poke the coldness to his hole.

“Makoto,” Haru breathes, lifting his hips off the bed.

Makoto gnaws on his lip, watching Haru’s face as he massages Haru’s hole, making Haru repeatedly squeak and vibrate. Makoto knows how good it feels to Haru, and that’s more than enough for Makoto to feel it, too.

Makoto pleasures Haru’s ass with the cold towel for a little while longer. Until it begins to feel so good that Makoto starts wanting to use his other hand to pleasure Haru’s cock just as faithfully. Make him cum one more time – or several times, actually.

Makoto finally stops himself and drops the towel. He looks over the relaxed, glistening body of his beautiful boyfriend. His best friend. His everything that matters.

Haru opens his eyes, looking so far-gone, and his focus eventually finds Makoto. There are so many things that Makoto would love to hear from Haru, but it isn’t something he needs in order to feel secure. Makoto can see it. Can tell so plainly when Haru gazes at him in such a way.

Makoto clears his throat, feeling silly for actually wanting to cry. “Y-your triage is complete.”

Haru idly grins, slowly batting his eyelashes in a haze. “Thank you.”

“You think you can get back to sleep?” Makoto asks.

Haru stretches, nodding and yawning. “I could’ve before. I’ll feel good doing it now.”

“That’s all I wanted,” Makoto says, moving things off the bed.

“Hold on,” Haru says, taking Makoto’s hand before he can set the ointment on the table. Haru sits up, plucking the tube from him. “What about you?” he asks. “I wasn’t the only one on my knees.”

“I’m fine,” Makoto says, shrugging. “Better now that you’re okay.”

“And you have to be okay, too,” Haru says. “Don’t argue with me. It’s late,” he quickly adds as Makoto opens his mouth to respond.

Makoto sighs, pulling up his pajamas and exposing his raw knees. Haru frowns, peaking up at Makoto.

“I was going to take care of this,” Makoto says, answering Haru’s stare. “Just later.”

Haru rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He takes a cotton stick and squeezes a bit of ointment on it, delicately smearing it over Makoto’s knees. Makoto sucks on the inside of his cheek to absorb the stinging feel of Haru tending to him.

Haru looks up when he’s finished, meeting Makoto’s eyes. Haru blushes, his brow tensing a little.

“You really…scared me for a moment,” Haru says, so quietly that Makoto can barely hear him. “Earlier, when you came back in here.”

Makoto doesn’t have to ask what Haru is referring to. He knew he misspoke the moment the words came out of his mouth.

“I know,” Makoto says, taking Haru’s hand. “I realized that far too late. I’m sorry. I was just worried about Mr. Yama doing something to us.”

“You don’t have to,” Haru says.

Haru looks away, and Makoto knows what his boyfriend wants to say but sometimes can’t. However, Makoto doesn’t need to hear the phrase every time. He already knows Haru’s words – feels them in his heart every second of the day.

Haru looks back at Makoto with eyes big enough to fill an entire ocean. “I love you, Makoto,” Haru says. “I won’t let anyone get to you or us. Ever.”

Makoto sighs pleasantly, smiling wide and feeling just as much pride as he does affection. Haru does love him. Loves him enough to say the words out loud, and that – more than anything – makes Makoto trust Haru completely. Makes Makoto feel like he could carry mountains on his back.

Makoto places his forehead to Haru’s once more, cupping his face.

“Tell me what you want right now,” Makoto urges. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Haru makes a faint noise, clutching Makoto’s wrists. “Come to bed with me, please?” Haru whispers, softly kissing Makoto’s lips.

Makoto only nods, letting Haru kiss him again and again before pulling away. Makoto raises his arms, and Haru helps him take off his shirt. Haru tosses it over the bed as Makoto strips himself of his pajamas then turns off the lamplight.

Haru kicks down the blanket, and they settle underneath the sheets. Makoto lies on his back, and Haru curls up close next to him on his side, laying his cheek on Makoto’s arm. Makoto kisses the top of Haru’s head, and Haru mimics the gesture, kissing Makoto’s bicep.

Makoto’s eyes drift close before he even realizes that he’s falling asleep, and he dreams of calm ocean waters – bouquets of blooming roses.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this! It was SO fun to write!! MH is...PERFECT.


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